Aberdeen Poachers by Motorhome

The Granite City of Aberdeen

Aberdeen Harbour

Caledonian Forest

The Motorhomers were at camp just outside of Ballater;

‘Ok, ye two eejit fishermen, off ye go,’ Jessie said. We’ll see ye at tea-time, an’ dinnae come back empty handed’

The lads set off: A mate of Josie who had worked with the forrestry commision had told him of a little lochan on the moor at the top of the hill
He had said that it was boiling with trout. The boys climbed over the dyke and started up the steep hill entering into the forest;

‘How far tae go noo, Josie?’

‘Oh jist aboot a mile, Francie’

‘Look at the height o’ that hill, Josie. Is that ane o’ thae Munros. Dae ye think I’m some sort o’ mountaineer or somethin, Josie?’

An hour later and the lads reached the top dripping with perspiration and muddied from head to toe, they collapsed in a heap beside a boathouse at the edge of a little loch. Complete silence, not a sound, except the sound of nature. A stream was flowing gently and the call of a curlew could be heard in the distance;

‘Who owns this place, Josie?’

‘I dinnae know, Francie, probably some Duke or other, ane o’ thae people ye see goin’ aboot wi’ a deerstalker oan his heid an’ broon leather ridin’ boots, corduroy troosers an’ a short sleeved Fair Isle jumper, wi’ a blunderbuss draped o’er his elbow’

‘We’ve nae permit. Whit if we were caught, Josie, whit if they dinnae gie us a chance tae surrender, Whit if they jist opened up an’ mowed us doon? I suppose we could say that we werenae fishin’ an’ we arenae really we’re usin’ a bubble float an’ worm, Josie, no’ fly-fishin. We’re actually murderin’ the fish. They dinnae stand a chance. Och, Whit if they charged us wi’ murderin’ fish, Josie?’

‘Aw for goodness sake, Francie’

‘Whit if some guy comes alang in ane o’ thae giro-copters and machine-guns us doon, Josie?’

‘Och for goodness sake, Francie, Whit if I crack open a bottle o’ Nookie Broon Ale, Francie?’

‘Good idea, Josie’

After drinking their beers, Josie threaded a worm onto the hook, and expertly cast the bait out into the loch. When he brought the line back in, the worm had gone;

‘Can I have a go, Josie, can I have a go?’

‘Ok, Francie, pal, you have a go’

Francie threaded the worm, whirled the bait around his head and cast out. The complete rod left his grasp and landed with a splash, out in the middle of the loch;

‘Och, Francie, now whit dae we tell the lassies?’

They arrived back at camp;

‘Here they come, Phemie, like a couple o’ tramps. Well, whit have ye goat for us then?’ said Jessie

‘We’ve goat four lovely fish, an’ a big bag o’ french fries frae the chippy doon in Ballater,’ said Josie

‘Oh, they smell nice,’ said Phemie

 

Life’s a Beach at Aberdeen

Joe Sharp

Perhaps you would enjoy reading the adventures of Francie and Josie.

http://purepoetry.co.uk/links_15.html

 

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